The hunt for cereal
by Burning-candlelight
Summary: Set during the three year gap before the attack of the Androids. Vegeta can't find his cereal and Bulma receives a rather unfortunate call from Yamcha. What will happen when Yamcha cancels a date on Bulma yet again?


**Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything affiliated with it.**

Since when had her home become a half way house? Bulma glared at the Saiyan Prince over the rim of her favourite coffee mug. As the steam rose she watched as he stomped his way around the spacious kitchen, trying to find something to eat. Vegeta wasn't completely hopeless when it came to making food, but he wasn't a Michelin Star chef.

"Woman, where is the sweet breakfast food served with milk?" Vegeta asked sharply from inside the cleaning cupboard. Bulma remained silent and watched him rummage for a second, wondering how long it would take him to realise there was nothing edible in the cupboard.

"Woman?" Vegeta snapped again and he slammed the cupboard door shut. Bulma felt her blood pressure rise. She tired to breathe but it didn't work.

"I have a name you know," she said firmly, still eyeing him over the rim of her mug.

"Fine. Bulma," the prince said grumpily as he crossed his arms across his well-defined chest. She was going to take this as a small victory and inwardly smirked. On the outside she tried to keep her appearance as placid as ever.

"If you're referring to the cereal, I'm not going to help you. You've been squatting in this house long enough to know where it is. You eat it every morning."

A vein visibly popped in Vegeta's forehead. The woman was testing his patience. She did this on a regular basis, but his anger at her was always short lived. This was her home and she provided the food. If he wanted to continue eating it, he had to increase his tolerance levels when it came to people not obeying him. He growled low in his throat and turned his back on her and continued to look.

Several minutes later Bulma got up from the kitchen table and made her way to the sink to wash her coffee mug. She glanced at Vegeta who was searching the fridge for his preferred breakfast meal. Suddenly she heard a ringing sound and dropped the mug in the sink. She reached for her phone that she had left on the kitchen counter and spotted that it was Yamcha.

"Hey Yamcha!" she answered brightly. Vegeta continued to rummage in the fridge, but he was now listening intently. The fool was on the phone, and he wanted to hear what happened this time.

"What do you mean you can't make it to lunch?" Bulma asked. Vegeta stopped rummaging. The fool was cancelling his plans with her again. That was the third time this week. The man deserved to be blasted to smithereens for what he was doing.

"You're training? Seriously? That's your excuse? Vegeta trains, yet he can still manage to watch 60 minutes of TV with me and my mom and dad every night!" Bulma yelled. A wicked smile spread across Vegeta's face. He secretly enjoyed it when Bulma used him in arguments with that moron human. He could practically see Yamcha going pale. He didn't mind the particular example Bulma had used this time either. The programme he watched with her was fascinating. It involved a group of people being stranded on an island and having to survive for as long as possible to win a sum of money. He knew he could win the programme, no contest, but Bulma was adamant that with his Saiyan abilities, it would be classed as cheating.

"Enough Yamcha, enough. I've had it. You are never cancelling a date with me again because there will be no more dates. We are through," Bulma exclaimed, and with that she hung up and threw the phone as hard as she could across the kitchen, where it shattered against the wall.

Vegeta closed the fridge door with a soft thump and glanced at the enraged scientist. She was breathing heavily, her shoulders heaving. He smirked, she had cut her ties with the moron. He continued in his hunt for the cereal.

Bulma glared at the broken phone on the floor. She was furious. How could Yamcha have cancelled on her again? Did he not realise who he was dating? She was glad she'd ended it; however, she was regretting breaking her phone. She'd have to get another one, a better one, one that could handle being thrown violently against a wall. A smash behind her brought her attention back to the room she was in. She swung round and looked at the broken jar of pickles on the floor and a cursing Vegeta.

"Vegeta! What the hell?" she shouted, her temper not fully under her control.

"Don't blame me woman, it fell as soon as I opened the door!" the Saiyan shouted back, his temper as quick and fiery as hers.

Bulma let out an exasperated groan and grabbed a dish cloth and started to clean up the mess. Vegeta huffed and puffed for a moment and then gave in and started picking up the pickles and throwing them away. Once the mess was taken care of, he went straight back to searching for his cereal. Bulma's blood bubbled again.

"For goodness sake!" she shouted and stomped over to the only cupboard Vegeta hadn't checked. She opened the door and looked for his particular, sugary brand. Naturally it was at the very top, just out of her reach. She stretched up and her fingers barely grazed the shelf, let alone the box. Suddenly she felt a firm grip on the back of her sweater, just at her collar, and she started to rise off the ground. Vegeta was lifting her so she could get the box. Her anger was replaced by shock, and her cheeks flushed with heat.

Her feet found the ground again and she felt a strong, solid arm reach around to grab the cereal box from her slack grip. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck and a shudder ran up and down her spine. Slowly she turned and found herself mere inches away from Vegeta, caged against the kitchen counter by his impressive form. She could feel his body temperature and see the pulse in his neck. As she braced herself against the kitchen counter, she felt the breath leave her body.

"Um…Vegeta?" she asked softly, her voice quavering.

The Saiyan Prince didn't answer. He looked intently into her eyes and she swallowed hard, her throat bobbing with the motion. In a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, Vegeta's free hand moved and made it way to rest in the small of Bulma's back. Slowly he pulled her even closer, until her body was flush against his. A short breath hitched in Bulma's throat as her eyes travelled from Vegeta's intense eyes, down to his firm lips.

"Vegeta?" she whispered again, barely audible.

"Quite Bulma," he muttered as he lowered his head.

When his lips met hers, Bulma felt her mind turn to mush. In one way she couldn't comprehend what was happening, and in another way, she knew exactly what was happening and was hungry for it. Her limp arms had a mind of their own and they found their way around his neck and she pulled him deeper into the kiss. This seemed to be all the signal that he needed because he cocked his head slightly and brushed his tongue against her lips. She opened her mouth and soon their tongues were becoming familiar with each other. He tasted like mint, and power. She didn't even know what power tasted like, but she just knew that he tasted like it.

When the kiss broke and they both gasped for air, Bulma felt dazed, but not confused. She'd just kissed Vegeta and he had initiated it. She should feel mortified but she didn't. She wanted more. He was still holding her against him, and she became very aware that his body was the physical specimen of perfect, and she blushed.

"Would you…would you like to go to lunch today?" she asked breathily. Vegeta eyed her for a microsecond and then smirked.

"Training," he said with a light chuckle. Bulma balked for a second but then gave him a smirk of her own.

"Dinner then?" she asked coyly. She felt herself being clutched tighter to the Saiyan's body and could feel his approval.


End file.
